


A Simple Game of Catch

by redheadedbisexual



Category: 19th Century CE RPF, American Civil War RPF, Historical RPF, The CiviliTy of Albert Cashier - Stevens & Wooden/Deratany
Genre: American Civil War, American History, Canon Trans Character, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Queer History, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 09:29:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18407837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redheadedbisexual/pseuds/redheadedbisexual
Summary: Two months into the 95th Illinois Infantry's term of service, a Sergeant's shocking discovery leaves Albert more anxious than ever.





	A Simple Game of Catch

Amidst the bustling activity of a typical morning at the Union camp, six young soldiers stood before their sergeant in obedient silence. They’d been called upon for reasons unknown, and as the sergeant studied their line, they watched his every movement, each trying to decipher the unreadable look upon his face. Some worried they’d done something to earn punishment, others that they’d soon be sent on some undesirable errand. The soldier at the end of the line had a different idea of what may be in store, and prayed to the heavens the sergeant would not take note of the fear with which he quaked.

At long last, the sergeant spoke up, raising his hand to display the apple he had procured from a basket at his feet.

“You boys hungry?” he said simply.

In a response he received some confused mumblings of “Yes, sir.”

“Well I got these apples here to get rid of.” That said he tossed an apple to the boy at the head of the line, who only just managed to catch it. Holding the apple in his hands, the boy looked at his neighbor in confusion.

“If you can catch it, you can have it,” the sergeant carried on, seizing another apple from the basket and tossing it to the next boy in line. He went down the whole line in this manner, a confused relief sweeping over the line, and as he awaited his turn the nervous young man at the end began to relax. His fears had not been realized. This was nothing more than the sergeant’s typical use of excessive intimidation to maintain his authority.

When it came time for this soldier to catch the apple thrown his way, however, he made an odd movement. Rather than pluck the apple out of the air, he reached instinctively for some invisible item at his thigh. The apple fell to the ground, and the soldier straighten himself out, cheeks reddening.

“What was that you just did there?” The sergeant asked, eyeing him suspiciously. There was an unsettling sense of victory in his eyes.

“I— uh—” the soldier stuttered.

“Looked to me like you were reaching for an apron.” As he spoke the sergeant came over to him, standing tall with pride. “You spend much time running around in an apron?” The remainder of the line stifled a laugh as a look of terror crossed their comrade’s face.

As the sergeant reached to seize the arm of the soldier he now understood to be a cleverly disguised young woman, she took off running. She had covered no more than a hundred yards when she was overtaken by two young men who just moments ago had stood in line beside her with no question in their minds that she was their equal. At the sergeant’s instruction, her arms were restrained, and he came forward to examine her. Despite the woman’s desperate attempts to give him difficulty, he had soon enough unbuttoned her coat and was pulling back the waist of her trousers.

She let out a cry of anguish as she was forced to endure the humility of him staring down her trousers, confirming what he could easily know to be true without such treatment.

Once satisfied with his examination, the sergeant stepped backed, ordered the “foolish girl” be released and had it arranged that she be escorted out of camp that very night.

***

“Hey, Albert!” called the strident voice of Billy Middleton, a note of mischief in his tone.

Somewhat reluctantly, Albert gazed in his direction. Not another word was said before an apple was hurled in his direction. With commendable dexterity, Albert caught the apple in two hands, greeted by an uproarious cheer from Billy and the few young men seated around a fire with him. The meaning of the gesture was not lost on Albert, and he threw Billy a frustrated look.

“He passes the test!” Billy laughed.

Albert said nothing in response, going back to the business of ignoring his comrades and their childishness.

“Well we had to check, didn’t we?” Billy went on, disappointed he hadn’t prompted a stronger reaction. “Shortest boy in the company—and not once these last two months have we seen you shave!”

The apple was then returned to Billy, sailing rapidly passed his head and invoking an involuntary flinch. Again the boys around the fire erupted into laughter, and though he joined, Billy very clearly did not enjoy being the subject of amusement. The hint of a smile crossed Albert’s lips as he watched Billy struggle to hide a sheepish expression.

“Oh, shut up, Billy,” muttered Jeffrey N. Davis, seated somewhat closer to Albert. He glanced over at him and said softly, “He doesn’t mean nothing by it.”

Keeping his silence, Albert stood up, shouldering his haversack and turning away from them.

“Where are you going?” Jeff called after him.

“Going to wash up down at the creek,” he said dismissively, and carried on his way.

The morning events involving the woman soldier had spread quickly through the camp, and had become the subject of much discussion, and in the case of Billy Middleton, the subject of much jest. To Albert, the incident was less amusing. He sympathized with the woman, whose attempts to serve her country alongside the nation’s young men had been met with such cruel treatment. He’d caught her eye as she’d been escorted out of camp earlier that evening, and for a brief moment he had felt as though he shared her sorrow. He’d quickly been forced to avert his eyes, overcome with an unsettling sense that that one gaze had been enough to reveal to her the commonality they shared.

Albert had hiked nearly a mile upstream before he at last felt confident he’d gone far enough to assure nobody else would pass him by. Even so, his hands quivered as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, the day’s events racing through his head. 

His trousers rolled up to his knees, he cautiously stepped in to the stream, whose lukewarm waters had retained some of the day’s heat that the air had not. He waded until the water had just about reached his knees, and he bent over and cupped his hands, raising water to his face and pushing his hair back out of his eyes. It was then that he heard the soft tread of footsteps behind him. Immediately he crossed his arms over his chest, frantically looking over his shoulder to see who might be there. In his frightened state, he lost his balance, tumbling backward and landing on his rear in the shallow stream waters. As he cursed his misfortunes he came to realize that the footsteps he’d so feared had been nothing more than a young doe coming down to the stream for a drink.

He sat there a long moment, muttering curses and dreading the thought of walking back in soaked trousers. Eventually, he resolved to hang them to dry for a bit, and so he stepped out the stream and undressed. 

For the next hour he sat anxiously on the bank of the stream, his coat draped over his shoulders and his knees pulled up to his chest, watching the stream waters rush along and the moon rise high in the sky.

When at last he returned to camp all was quiet, though it would not be long before the dawn came and called them to their morning duties. Carefully, he crept into his tent, brushing past his slumbering bunk mate and settling himself against the comfort of his bedroll.

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't heard of the Civility of Albert Cashier or the *true story* of Albert Cashier (a trans Civil War veteran) I highly recommend it.
> 
> This fic is historically accurate btw. There was a woman in Albert's regiment who was caught two months into their service. Maybe I'll write more of these? We'll see.


End file.
